


How to Make Yourself Feel Things

by CO32minus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - America, Comedy, F/F, F/M, Feel-good, Gen, High School Theatre AU, M/M, Not a main facet of the fic but, Past eating disorder, Slow Burn, alternating pov, minor mental health issues, or at least an attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:10:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CO32minus/pseuds/CO32minus
Summary: " When he’d seen a flyer in his freshman year of high school, taped on the walls of several of his classes during the last few months of the year, 15 year-old Shouyou finally figured out that his ability to feel-things-well had a name.It was called acting.He could act."Hinata joins high school theatre, and. It's an experience.





	1. Act I Scene I: The Audition

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!!! I actually uh, posted this before - or tried to. It used to be called "Haikyuu!! Stage Play (No Not That One)" but I thought that was a really weird title and also I wrote the first chapter poorly, and without much thought to the rest of the fic. So I rewrote it using my brain, and here's the story, again. But hopefully better.
> 
> It takes place in America because, well, I'm not sure exactly how Japanese theatre programs work, and I could do research, but I'm still not sure I would get it right. Besides I kind of...wanted them to have a specific experience, so that's what I'm doing. Making my faves experience a thing. My faves being, almost the entire cast of Haikyuu.
> 
> God.

When he was maybe 11 years old, Shouyou discovered he had the particular talent for crying.

When he said it aloud his father looked at him worriedly and asked if everything was ok at school.

"No it’s fine!" Shouyou reassured him. That wasn't why he was crying. There wasn't really a reason he was crying, he just could _do it_.

To prove himself be started crying right then and there, lip quivering gently, breathing slightly ragged. He hadn't timed it very well, because then his dad thought he was lying about the school thing, so he backpedaled and explained it again.

"I’m really good at making myself cry," His face retaining no redness after he wiped away the fake tears. "I’m not sad, I can just cry whenever I want to!"

16 year-old Shouyou looks back on that discovery with fondness. It had lead him on a path of imitating movies and tv shows to test his abilities, and in the process found that not only could he draw up impromptu tears, but he could actually sell the feeling. He could make others think, he was genuinely sad, make his voice crack at the right moments, deliver a few lines, his voice thick. And then Shouyou learned how to feel anguish, and then anger, and then variants of excitement and joy (though reaching those emotions wasn’t much of a stretch).

In actually, Shouyou is not good at just crying. He’s just good at feeling things.

When he’d seen a flyer in his freshman year of high school, taped on the walls of several of his classes during the last few months of the year, 15 year-old Shouyou finally figured out that his ability to feel-things-well had a name.

It was called acting.

He could act.

He’d never been on stage before, but that flyer offered an opportunity.

Ripping the paper off the wall, corners still stuck to it with tape, Shouyou read it several times over, stowing the date for the informational meeting in his mind.

The next Friday he found himself crammed into room 202 with dozens of other kids. Too many for him to filter through, not recognizing anyone. A small, younger looking man with round welcoming eyes and a generous smile stood at the head of the room, calling for everyone to quiet down. Shouyou assumed he was the teacher leading the play. The director, he guessed.

The man gives a rundown of the play and process of auditioning, and before Shouyou knew it he’d been shoved off with a few sheets of paper. Some were audition scripts, and one was a application. When he got home he quickly scrawled in his information: his drama and performance experience (none but he didn't suppose that should have much effect), if he’ll be absent often, what year he'd be going into, and whether or not he’d be willing to do a kissing scene. He blushed at the thought of the last one but marked down a "yes," a wobbly smile on his lips.

At the actual audition, he was more anxious than he anticipated. He’d signed up to audition as early as he could manage, but there he stood, hand shaking as he opened the door for his turn.

The young looking teacher smiled at him, eyes crinkling behind his glasses. Shouyou turned over his application. Dragging his fingers through his short black curls, the teachers looked it over and considered the headshot the freshman had stapled to the corner of the sheet as required.

"Shouyou, is this your natural hair color?"

Shouyou nodded vigorously in response. The teacher contemplated for a second.

"If you get casted, we’ll most likely have to spray-dye your hair black —or you could dye it black yourself with normal coloring, it's up to you. It’s just that the play is set in 1920s era Russia, and not many people had bright orange hair. Though it's an interesting color even today. Don’t worry though, that won't affect your chances for getting into the play." The teacher smiled reassuringly. "Now, before you get started I want you to know that I am your friend. I want you to do well in this audition. I’m not going to yell at you if you do something wrong."

Asking a few more questions, he’d guided Shouyou to where he should stand, and in a matter of minutes the audition is over.

Waiting to see the posted list for callbacks was harsh. The director pushed back the posting until the very end of the day, and getting through 8th period was grueling. Shouyou looked up at the sheet of paper that seemed, in that moment, to hold his entire life in its hands, rapidly scanning it for his name. His heart beating in his ears. Finally his eyes landed on it. _Shouyou Hinata_ it said. The callback audition date typed neatly at the bottom of the paper.

Almost impossibly, the call back auditions made Shouyou more anxious.

It was incredibly difficult for him to judge if the number of people at the callback was helpful or frustrating. On the one hand most everyone was friendly and laughing and excited. Their collective nervous energy negating itself and building an eagerness to do well more than anything.

But on the other hand, he had to see everyone else act. And they acted well. Shouyou didn't know at this point, if he’d make it to the final cast, but he tried his best anyway.

Again, waiting for the list to be posted required a tremendous amount of effort on Shouyou’s part, daring him to rip out his too-orange hair.

When he cried, it wasn’t because he was sad or just because "he could."

It was because he’d made it.

\------

3 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days later Shouyou finally gets to see the inside of the auditorium.

His leg had started bouncing half way through his 8th period class, and it doesn’t stop until the bell rings. He would have left the room right then if his teacher hadn’t insisted on stretching the last of her announcements for a few minutes more, holding Shouyou captive in the arms of the public school system. He sits halfway out of his chair, clinging to it for balance and slowly sliding closer to the ground as the last few words tumbled out of his teachers mouth. And when they finally left her, he pushes off the floor, bag flouncing behind his back, classmates left in the dust.

He bolts around a few corners, narrowly avoiding other students eagerly leaving class and jumps down the northeast stairwell, taking the steps two by two.

If the auditorium doors had been any lighter they would have smashed against the wall when he just about throws them open. There’s a final sinking sigh from the door before it clicks, and the loud noise of the busying hallway shut behind him. Nigh complete silence taking its place.

His shoes make a satisfactory _clack_ on the polished tile of the short steps down into the room. A very short tunnel of only a couple feet, leading out to the auditorium to further muffle outside noise. As it opens up, the tapping of his shoes echoes off the high walls and ceiling.

The room is empty.

It sends a shock through his heart for a moment until his eyes land on the polyester roll-away bag leaning against the wall of the orchestra pit. Takeda’s bag. Shouyou let’s out a quiet “guwah” to himself in relief. Yes, this was the right place —he’s just early.

Smiling contentedly to himself, Hinata hefts his bag down with a _flump_. He sits next to it in third row, the center aisle of seats.

During assemblies Shouyou is unwillingly forced to sit like a normal person. But no one’s watching him now, so he sits on metal of the theater chair while the seat is vertical. _I feel taller like this_ he realizes and sticks his tongue out at himself. When he shifts his weight the chair quickly folds open plopping him into the cushioned seat. Like a child experiencing a slide for the first time, he lets the seat swing open a couple more times, his heart falling in his chest for a split second when he drops down.

After about the tenth time he stops and strums his fingers against the wooden armrest. He studies the little golden placard screwed to it, he fiddles with the green knit seat cushion in front of him, he taps his foot on the ground.

God he’s already bored. Shouyou checks his phone. _It’s been what, 5 minutes since the bell rang?_ With a sigh he looks around the auditorium, maybe to find somewhere to focus his attention. It’s all vast and open and empty and boring and -

There’s another person in here.

Taking a sharp inhale Shouyou stares at them in embarrassment. The other person —the other boy —returns the gaze, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion (and a little bit of judgement).

Shouyou considers explaining himself for a moment —he didn’t hear anyone when he walked in and he was sure he looked around, and listen have you ever tried sitting on the chair that way it’s really fun he swears it’s not as weird as it looks. But their eye contact is broken, not by spontaneous word vomit, but by the cacophonous sound of after-school high school students flooding through the door. As it closes the outside din fades out, and two familiar voices cut across the air.

“Suga! Daichi!” Hinata chirps, embarrassment already fleaing his thoughts.

“Hi Shouyou!” The former calls out with a wave. They both smile at him, walking arm in arm.

Suga was the first person in the cast to talk Shouyou. With a smile like a pat on the shoulder, he’d broken Shouyou’s budding anxiety, introducing the sophomore to more than half the cast, welcoming him in as part of the team immediately. It was only four days ago, but that one interaction had really opened the floodgates of friendship. And it had been a flurry of names, but luckily Shouyou was good at memorizing those.

As Suga and his boyfriend approach there’s another click of the door and a larger group of people enter, further disturbing the quiet of the room. Shouyou hadn’t noticed just _how_ quiet everything was before, until the voices stop echoing when there are enough bodies in the room to absorb the sound. The newcomers continue a poorly cut-off conversation. Something about creating a symbiotic relationship between garden plants and fish that Shouyou does not understand.

“So do you like, filter out the fish shit and manually put it in the plants.” The taller one asks with genuine curiosity. There’s a teasing air about him that Shouyou had noticed when they’d first met. His mess of black hair and crooked smile creating a sort of darkness about him, that seems to only thinly veil how easy it is to make fun of him.

“No, there are tubes. There are tubes connecting the fish and the plants.” The other one retorts, sliding his bag off his shoulder. “Do you think I, of all people, would sign up for a class where I have to actually touch fish poop?” A practiced look of disgust crossing the boy’s notably handsome features.

The one with black hair, puts up his hands defensively. “Look I don’t know, I have no clue what the process is, all I know is that I still can’t tell what the mascot is.”

“It’s a fish. Like, a fish in overalls. Well, no actually it’s more like, a fish man. And it’s fins have _fingers_ , Tetsurou, and it’s horrible and I hate it, and its ugly empty smile and empty eyes.” The pretty one, Tooru, whines. It’s times like now, when Tooru wraps his arms dramatically around his friend and leans all of his body weight onto him, that Tetsurou loses all dignity.

The two other boys that had walked in with Tetsurou and Tooru sidestep the conversation and sit down. One of them has a mild look of indifference, and if Shouyou looks really, really hard, he can read slight amusement in it. Sitting down behind him, he gives Shouyou a soft smile, hardly noticeable but warm nonetheless. The other boy sits down next to Daichi, running a hand through his short spiky hair, visibly tired but trying to fight it off.

“Is Takeda here?” The one sitting next to Daichi asks, forcing a smile onto his face. Shouyou had talked to him maybe once last Friday, but he’s pretty sure his name is Hajime.

Shouyou shakes his head. “I’ve been waiting here for a while but I haven’t seen him.”

The boy sitting behind Shouyou, Keiji, hums in acknowledgement.

Deciding to join them Tetsurou purposefully clambers over Keiji earning a distasteful look, Tooru following a step behind, sitting in Tetsurou’s lap.

The group falls into comfortable conversation, Shouyou gratefully incorporated into it already. Friendly and well practiced banter bounces between all of them, and the collective five others balance out the pure mayhem that is Tooru and Tetsurou’s friendship.

Every few minutes more cast members walk into the room, most of them being upperclassmen. Shouyou watches all of them carefully, logging the faces of all potential friends he sees walk through the door. Besides Shouyou, there are only two other sophomores as far as he knows, and exactly one talented 8th grader that made her way into the mix. Besides them, everyone else is older and more experienced. They’re people he can learn from.

Shouyou places the people coming in now as Kiyoko and Yui although he’s only heard their names through other people. Yui shouts a quick hello to everyone, Kiyoko offering a light nod. But they don’t sit with Shouyou’s group, instead finding a place closer  to the door, continuing a private conversation.

Those that come in next also say their hellos and sit in the aisle next over. Two more girls, both with relatively short hair, but one with a dark pixie cut, and the other with a lighter, brown bob. _Kanoka and Hana?_ If Hinata remembers correctly. Chikara, the boy with them, has a relaxed expression.

In the process of his innocent people watching Shouyou makes eye contact again with the boy who’d been in the auditorium before him. It’s vaguely awkward but neither look away through sheer determination.

Shouyou knows who he is. They’re not entirely strangers, but despite interacting consistently  over the past two school days, he remains the one person Shouyou talked to, that didn’t immediately invite him to be his friend. They’re both casted as the same roles, so they’ll spend a lot of time together, on stage and off,  but the other boy has sort of an intimidating expression that continually leaves Shouyou grasping for stability while talking to him. And he  doesn’t make a lot of small talk either, so it’s hard for Shouyou to get a feel for the other boy through normal socialization tactics.

Still he didn’t feel any sort of animosity towards him. Only a slight awkwardness. And seeing him sit on the other side of the auditorium, still alone despite the growing number of the people in the room makes Shouyou feel a little lonely on the other boy’s behalf.

“Do you guys know why Tobio’s sitting alone?” Shouyou asks the group around him.

Suga shrugs. “I don’t really know him, you can invite him over if you want.”

“No.” Tooru pulls his head away from Tetsurou’s chest for a second and looks Hinata in the eyes. He smiles after a second. It kind of twitches onto his face.

Hajime sighs like he’s been holding it in for years.  “Tooru.”

“No.” Tooru repeats.

“Oh,” Suga whispers even though there’s no way Tobio can hear them from here. “Is that _him_?”

“The kid he’s butt-hurt about? Yeah.” Hajime retorts.

“Hey!” Tooru uncurls completely. “Don’t make it sound like nothing happened. Or like I’m stupid for feeling ‘butt-hurt’.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s just petty.”

Smiling again, Tooru bats his eyelashes. The hum he lets out sounds like bait to make Hajime push the topic further but he doesn’t.

While being friends with everyone here came easily, Shouyou can’t deny it happened suddenly. There’s a lot of inside conversation he’s not privy to yet and he doesn’t know if he should ask.

“You can...go over to him if you want?” Suga suggests, eyeing Shouyou’s expression.

He’s not sure if he necessarily wants to go over there alone, he doesn’t really know what to do once he goes over there. But after a minute a girl sits down next to Tobio. Or, sort of next to him. In the general proximity. As Shouyou watches for a few more seconds it becomes painfully obvious that they’re both just going to sit there awkwardly and alone, but at the same time.

So with an acknowledging nod to Suga, he goes over.

Walking on the armrests, Shouyou crouches and sits on the back of one of the chairs, facing the two loners. Tobio just sort of frowns. The short blonde girl looks at him, eye like saucers, lips pressed hard together. _Wait actually, she looks sort of familiar_. Shouyou widens his eyes at her in an attempt to see her more, and she makes a quiet peep. But she manages to put the pieces together before he does.

“Shouyou?” Her frame relaxes slightly.

“I knew I knew you!” He exclaims, immediately breaking out into a smile. “I don’t know where from, but I know your face!”

“Oh uh, we had algebra together last year.” He nods furiously at her. “I’m Hitoka.”

Shouyou lets out an impressed sound. “I remember you now — you were like, the best student in the class right after Kei! He’s in my geometry class now and I think he hates me!”

“Well, I’m...sure he doesn’t?” Hitoka offers quietly, thrown off by how brightly Shouyou had announced that.

“And you!” Shouyou aggressively points a finger at Tobio. “You’re Tobio. Tobio meet Hitoka we had algebra class together last year.”

“I heard all of that. I’m sitting _right here,_ dumbass.”

Shouyou considers that for maybe one second. “Hitoka, this is Tobio. We’re both casted for two of the same characters.”

All of them turn their attention toward the entrance as the loud _bang_ of the door slamming, ricochets off the walls.

There’s booming laughter and a lot of scuffling as Ryuu, Taketora, and Noya try to beat each other into the room and Noya winds up getting thrown across the floor. He roles with his backpack on and bounces up immediately so he must be alright. Akane, the talented 8th grader and Taketora’s little sister calmly steps around the noise and takes a seat next to Chikara. Distractible as he is Shouyou waves at them all and almost runs off to greet them, but he shakes his head, reminding himself Hitoka’s actively in a conversation with him.

“Um,” Hitoka’s shakes a little but she smiles, probably half expecting Shouyou to actually run off. “Who did you get cast as?”

“The dentist!” Shouyou starts.

“That’s not — “ Tobio starts as if to correct the other boy. Unfortunately he can’t properly pronounce “Kuryatin,” the actual name of the character, so he just pouts instead.

Shouyou continues after giving Tobio a curious look. “Also ‘Boy’. Those are the ones we share, but I’m also casted the ‘Tramp’.” Tobio pouts _more_. “What are you guys casted as?”

“You...listed all my roles.” At least trying to hide his grumpiness, Tobio’s eyes flicker between Shouyou’s face and the back wall..

Hitoka can still very clearly see his grumpiness. “I’m sure you’ll both be amazing though! I haven’t seen you act but, you both got here so... And I got casted as ‘Julia’ and ‘Defenseless Creature’.”

Tobio’s expression changes from grumpy to impressed (Shouyou thinks he looks much more approachable this way). “Defenseless Creature is a really big role. It looks like it’s going to require a lot of energy.”

“Yeah! It will but I’m really excited I get to scream a-and faint!”

“I don’t actually know um, what that role is.” Shouyou admits, rubs the back of his neck.

“Did you read the play?” Tobio furrows his brow.

“Uh. I read...my parts?”

Tobio clicks his tongue. “You need to read the whole thing!”

“But it’s so long!” Shouyou starts to complain, then remembers the script is a tiny booklet only about 6 or 7 inches tall and less than an inch thick. “Ok maybe it’s not that long, but it’s made of parts right? There’s not really a story you have to follow to know what you’re doing in your scene.”

Tobio gives him a look. Shouyou’s not really sure what it means.

Raising her hand as if in class, Hitoka interrupts. “Well it’s um, really funny. It’s just really funny! You should read it!”

Shouyou sighs, about to concede the argument when the noise behind him dies down. Again he’d been too wrapped up in whatever he was doing to notice the sound around him. But the quiet overtakes the space after Ryuu and Noya shuffle their bags away and sit down.

The teacher that kindly helped Shouyou through the audition practice, Mr. Takeda, stands expectedly in the front of the room. He clears his throat and waves the three sophomores closer.

His voice is rough and a little quiet.

“Alright. Everyone doing ok?” Most everyone nods. A couple of people hum a yes at him. “Ok, cool, nice. Well. Hopefully you can tell, but we are in the auditorium. I know we spent two horrific days in my classroom. But! Now we can _actually do things_.” He clears his throat again. “Well actually, we’ll have to start actual things tomorrow. As you can probably hear, I’m starting off this practice lovely — my voice is losing itself. Which should be fine, I’ll get it back by tomorrow and I can still project if I absolutely need to. But, I’m going to put off blocking one more day. I was probably going to do that anyways. But that’s what’s going to happen.”

As quietly as he can Shouyou turns to Hitoka. “What’s blocking?”

“I don’t know,” She says, and turns to Tobio.

“They’re the directions for where the actors move across stage and how they’re supposed to interact with set pieces and stuff.” He’s kind of bad at whispering. Takeda clears his throat at him and Tobio sinks into his chair a little bit, a dusting of red on his cheeks and ears.

“Anyways, we’re going to spend just _one_ more day working on lines. As I’ve said before, when you run through your scenes don’t stop if you make a mistake, and talk without hesitation. And _don’t_ put emotion into it yet. Don’t.” Takeda points a finger at Tooru and Noya. “I’m going to get the hacky sacks from my room so Daichi, if you would please — lead warm ups while I run to get those.”

Daichi stands and nods, gesturing for everyone else to join him. Following the more experienced theatre kids’ leads, Shouyou scuttles to the back wall of the auditorium, next to the sound booth. Everyone else line the walls in a giant circle, with about five to seven feet in between each of them. Daichi stays in the front in the very center, and despite being 100 feet directly across from Daichi, Shouyou can still hear him loud and clear.

They’re first lead through physical warm-ups, and Daichi makes sure everyone’s in a proper stance. He calls it a mountain pose, which sounds kind of cool but really it’s just standing with your feet at about shoulder width, knees relaxed and back straight. But Shouyou will take pride in cool names where he can get them.

Physical warm-ups are mostly standard stretches, but toward the end they massage their faces. Massaging your temples and jaw Shouyou can understand but he has to watch those closer to him when Daichi tells them all to massage their tongues. Shouyou awkwardly pushes his thumbs into the soft underside of his jaw.

He guesses his tongue has to connect to the rest of his body somewhere but he wasn’t thinking about it before and now he feels weird. He supposes now that he’d been holding tension in his tongue? After the minute kneading the muscle his head does feel strangely more relaxed, and his jaw looser, but Shouyou cannot comprehend how tension gathered in his tongue in the first place.

Without realizing it Shouyou had gotten very distracted by the tongue massaging and lost track of what Daichi was saying. Everyone’s moved onto vocal warm ups, making some weird noise and he’s forced to join in half way. Making an “e” sound, Shouyou raises the pitch of his voice along with everyone else, and then lowers it again going as deep as he can. Daichi leads them all in doing it one more time, the end a quiet competition for whose voice can go lowest. (Hajime wins).

“When we do tongue twisters, make sure to enunciate” Daichi belts across the room. He runs them all through different tongue twisters, none of which Shouyou has ever heard before. _To sit in solemn silence_ seems to go on forever, and some of the upperclassmen do hand gestures along with the rhyme.

The phrase “big black block” comes up and Tetsurou mimes the shape of a square and makes a little thrust with his hips on the word “block” making eye contact with Ryu when he does it. When the phrase repeats itself, Yui does an even harder thrust than Tetsurou did.

Daichi tries to ignore them.

The cast starts doing one last tongue twister when Takeda comes back. When they finish Daichi beckons everyone come back to the front with a loud clap, and Takeda hands out hacky sacks.

“These are the scenes you need to get into,” He says, tossing balls to every other person. “ _The Sneeze, The Dentist,_ and _The Seduction,_ I know there are a lot of overlapping characters and stragglers, so just fit in where you can. You can shift around scenes when you feel ready but for now just stick with those.” Keiji has two hacky sacks and hands one off to Tooru. Shouyou intimidates Keiji out of the other one by looking at him like he might explode if he doesn’t hold something in his hands.

Looking to the others for direction it becomes obvious neither Tooru nor Tobio are hyped about heading into practice with each other. Tooru looks undoubtedly away while Tobio bores holes into his back with his eyes, neither of them making a move to find somewhere to practice. Keiji shrugs so Shouyou just leads the way, seeing other people walking out the back doors of the auditorium.

The foyer behind the auditorium seemed alien to Shouyou before (he’d come out here exactly once during his freshman year, when the school still sold temporary IDs back here). The walls are two levels high, with staircases on either end of the long foyer. A rectangle of open space in the second level forms an internal balcony. And like the auditorium, with the other people back here the foyer seems a lot more friendly.

Shouyou can hear the voices of other cast members bouncing off the floor —they must have already gone upstairs. He squeezes the sack in his hand, feeling its thick crocheted covering under his thumb, waiting for the others to come through the doors.

Although the four of them — Shouyou, Keiji, Tobio, and Tooru — are all in the same scene, they have to split into casts. Cast A roles practice with each other, and cast B roles practice with each other. And unfortunately for Tobio, that means he has to work with Tooru.  

Tobio looks enviously after Shouyou as he steps away with Keiji.

Focusing solely on their lines, the cast A boys make it relatively far in their practice. Keiji was intimidating to Hinata when they’d first met, what with his general expression being a little hard to read. But at some point Keiji had smiled at _something_ someone said, and Shouyou was able to glean friendliness and affection from it. After that he was able to pick up the subtleties of Keijis seemingly flat face and find talking to him more comfortable. Perhaps Shouyou is so open with his facial expressions because he relies so heavily on interpreting others

In this scene, _The Dentist_ , Shouyou is well, the dentist, and Keiji plays the sexton. (Shouyou had to Google what that meant when he read it in the script, the first three letters frightening him into thinking it was something vulgar, but no, it is not that, it’s a type of clergyman. He’d covered his face upon realizing how wrong he was.)

Keiji’s casting as said sexton is interesting though — Shouyou knows the job of an actor is to literally pretend to be a completely different person, but he wonders what it’ll sound like when Keiji actually gets to put emotion into this role.

Because the sexton is absolutely pathetic. Really, the sexton is a completely pathetic character. And insistent. On being pathetic. Looking at Keiji that is not at all what Shouyou sees.

He’s excited.

After they reach the end of their scene for the third time, Keiji gives Shouyou a small nod before starting everything over again, but they don’t get very far before they’re interrupted.

Both of them had been trying to ignore the sound of Tooru’s voice rising slowly in time with the increasingly aggressive _thwack_ of the hacky sack landing in his hands. Or hitting his chest, as Hinata notes, sparing the others a quick glance.

It becomes impossible to ignore when Tobio throws the ball with all the force of his body weight, narrowly missing the other boy’s head.

“Hey uh, Tobio-chan, what the _fuck_.” Tooru strains, ghosting his hand over his cheek as if the ball had actually hit him.

Shouyou’s careful watching is broken by a whistle from above all of their heads. Tetsurou leans slightly over the railing and Ryuu leans completely folded over it and stares down at the pair fighting. Whether the ridiculous face he’s making is aimed at Tooru or Tobio, Shouyou isn’t sure.

“You guys wanna come up here or something?” Tetsurou’s brow is furrowed in concern though he’s trying to smile. “Shouyou and Tobio I mean. We can practice _the arrangement_.”

Without hesitation Tobio turns on his heel. He’s few steps up the staircase when he looks at Shouyou and cocks his head, demanding Shouyou follow him. Shouyou’s unsure how he earned that level of animosity but he follows anyway. Gently handing the ball back to Keiji he jogs after Tobio.

Tetsurou bares his teeth halfway between a smile and a frown as the two sophomores walk up to him. “You two doing alright?” He asks both of them but looks decidedly at Tobio. “My Tooru senses were tingling — meaning I could hear him shouting with my human ears and uh, sure enough...ya know. There was that.” He gestures over the railing.

Looking over at Tobio, Shouyou can see he’s not seething, but he’s not that far away from it. His head is angled down, hair falling over his eyes.

Despite how wary Hinata himself is feeling of Tobio, Ryuu reaches over and pats him soundly on the arm a couple of times.

“It’s ok. There’s a lot of drama in theatre. I know, it’s extremely surprising.” Ryuu even has the fortitude to smile, and Tobio relaxes a little. “But leave it up to your father, I’ll take care of it.”

Tobio frowns. "You are not my father. My father is at work right now, and you are a child.”

Tetsurou puts a hand on his chest, taking a moment to laugh before asking his question. "Would you rather I be your father? We look more alike than Shouyou and I."

"...How?" Tobio asks.

"You know like, my hair’s black, and your hair’s black."

"But my hair does what I want with it," Tobio continues earnestly. "And yours is a mess."

Tetsurou looks rightly offended, but Ryuu laughs at him.

"I think your hair makes you look cool!" Shouyou exclaims. Tobio is right, yeah, Tetsurou’s hair is kind of a mess, but it works with his whole aesthetic. A mess, but with too much charisma and a nice enough jawline for anyone to really care about it. "It fits you!"

Tetsurou pulls Shouyou’s head to his chest slowly, softly patting his hair. "No matter what claims Daichi has already taken on you, I am your father now."

Ryuu clears his throat, a little unused to being the person to bring a conversation back on track. “Ok but actually, we should practice _The Arrangement_ now — Tobio we’re stage partners. I play your father.”

“Oh. That’s what you meant.” Tobio states dryly. “I knew that.” He follows after Ryuu, standing just at the other end of the strip of floor, still overlooking the balcony.

Tetsurou digs for the hacky-sack in his pocket and turns it over in his hands.

“Do you really think my hair makes me look cool?” He asks Shouyou. Shouyou nods. The older boy looks at the ground with a triumphant smile. “Nice.” He tosses Shouyou the ball, and they start practicing their scene.


	2. Act I Scene II: The Starting Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hitoka is slowly making friends, Noya needs to contain himself, and Akaashi is wonderful at playing the babbling fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read I just wanna clarify a thing - so this is taking place in Chicago, IL. Because of. Reasons. And in Chicago a lot of our schools are k-8 and thus all those grades are considered part of elementary school. So when I say "elementary school" it can also refer to what's typically thought of as middle school. 
> 
> Ok now go

_Meeting new people? Ha ha yes fun. Yes please. I love that, sweet, sweet feeling of having absolutely no idea what anyone is going to think of me._ The thought churns in Hitoka’s mind.

It’s paired with a strangely high level of excitement. Strong enough to keep her walking toward practice, and keep her mind away from the anxiety closing her throat. Her heart is still beating (although too quickly), and she’s still breathing (although it’s very short), so she keeps walking.

And on top of all the excitement and anxiety that’s making her heart race, she’s also strangely calm. Of course the feelings of invigoration are stronger, so there’s a nice, confusing, swirl of emotions in her head. But as long as she remembers what she’s here to do she can bear it. The thought of acting, and the act of acting, is keeping her grounded.

Her mother was surprised when Hitoka brought it up the first time in her 8th grade year. Hitoka’s elementary school decided that year was the time to start a brand new drama program, and even though Hitoka was going to have to leave it behind shortly, she wanted a taste of it.

The teachers running the program were equally surprised. She was never one to seek out attention, and taking to the stage, being the focus of dozens, maybe hundreds of people at once seemed contradictory to everything she proved herself to be. Soft spoken, and only prone to confidence in fits of passion.

Luckily enough, drama proved to be a passion. Untapped and new and comfortable once she became acquainted with it.

On stage, she knows what she's going to say and how to say it. On stage she knows how the audience should, and will react.

 

Not like right now. Not like when she’s thrown in with a group of strangers she’ll have to see every day for almost two months. That’s the upside to starting off drama in a small 8th grade class: you know who everyone in the cast is. And the downside is once you leave them, you have to cope with starting off blank.

 

The first two days of practice? Excellent, wonderful. Script read throughs, assigned partners, a small space to sit in, and the ability to hide in the corner and still be able to hear Mr. Takeda. Just a step out of her comfort zone, but not enough to make her anxious.

The third day of practice? Fucked.

Ok maybe it wasn't that bad, maybe she liked the auditorium (even though its gigantic, and echoey, and going inside makes Hitoka feel like she’s trespassing and if caught will be shot on site.) Maybe she liked it even better when a dozen people sat around before practice, laughing and smiling kinda like a family.

Except, she wasn’t part of that family. Because days one and two she had sat and hid in the corner, and made friends with absolutely _nobody_.

Hitoka took responsibility for her actions - who else could she blame it on? Going in that third day of practice, she resigned herself, and planned on sitting as far away from everyone else as she could. Continuing to just, avoid forced social interaction as much as possible.

Fortunately enough for her, Shouyou took matters into his own hands. That burdensome feeling of isolation quickly dissolving as he proceeded with that forced social interaction. Except it seemed a lot less forced and more like a genuine interest in friendship.

So now, after that third day of practice, she knows at least a single person out of the whole cast who will voluntarily talk to her first. Tobio’s a little iffy, but there's a certain look in his eyes that has Hitoka thinking he probably means well, he just has no idea how thoroughly angry he looks sometimes. Or maybe she's judging people based on appearances again. God she's a terrible person isn't she? Really this is exactly why she shouldn't talk to people, she just, looks at a person once and then assumes everything about their life and _anyway_ ー

Shouyou will hopefully also make the fourth day of practice (and every day after) a little less nerve wracking. With his bright smile and happy eyes, and the ability to talk to Hitoka like the normal human person she swears she is.

"I have to leave, Hitoka." Shouyou says, gently tugging his sleeve out of her vice-like grip.

"What?" Hitoka asks.

"Mr. Takeda said ‘if you're in the later scenes go out to the foyer and practice your lines. We’ll call you when we need you.’" He dutifully repeats to her, innocent and without any intention of hurting Hitoka.

 _I’m going to die here_. She thinks.

"Oh ok." She says, and lets him run off. Keiji’s been keeping the door open for him. He gives her one last wave, and then the door closes softly.

Feeling like a fish out of water, she turns back to the stage she squeezes her eyes shut, bringing her legs up to her chest again.

There’s a couple people on the stage right know, Takeda prepping them all for blocking. Hitoka keeps her eyes on him, letting everything else fade into the background for a second. Watching him wave his arms to different people, looking back and forth between his script and his notebooks and the actors with the clumsy energy that marks him as one of the schools younger teachers.

She knows him at least. She might be alone and have almost no friends in the cast. And Takeda might be older than her and a teacher and the director, but at least she knows him. She knows his name, and he’s friendly and nice.

 _But I still don’t know anyone I have to work with._ She thinks. _I know their names but I have no idea who these people are or if they’ll hate me or if they’ll think I’m annoying. They’re probably all better actors than me. Maybe they’ll think I’m lousy, maybe they’ll cringe at my acting._

Half of the words that come through her head fall out of her mouth, a soft mumbling into her knees as she avoids looking anywhere but at Takeda’s back. But as the words she says seem to gradually get worse, she’s able to let go of some of them, and the power they hold over her. Saying things out loud has always helped her let go.

The last few words drip out like a faucet running dry, the open air left to deal with the pain of her thoughts instead of her mind.

There’s still a little bit of buzzing in her stomach, but the tension in her body has somewhat alleviated, so Hitoka dares her eyes to wander and reassess her situation. The cast of the first three scenes are still in the actual auditorium, two of the three are on stage, and Hitoka, being in the cast for the third, sits, waiting with her cast partners in the audience. Actually there’s only one other person sitting with her because their third scene partner is needed on stage.

And Hitoka accidentally makes eye contact with her.

“Are you ok?” The other girl’s voice is confident but filled with concern. Her gaze is steady, like she hadn’t caught Hitoka’s eyes on accident at all. “You were looking kind of pale for a second there.”

“Ah! Yes - yes I’m fine!” She says, but the other girl isn’t really convinced with her protest. Hitoka wonders if her mumbling had been louder than she thought.

The two of them have talked during previous practices, though they hadn’t exchanged much outside of running through the script, but Hitoka knows two things about this other girl.

One, her name is Akane; and two, Hitoka has no idea how old she is. The shape of her face is soft and she’s kind of short and small like a child, but the way she carries herself seems more mature than that. And Hitoka will not lie her eyebrows make her seem intense.

Also this is a high school why would a child be here.

“Are you sure?” Akane pushes, as she raises one of her dark eyebrows incredulously.

“Yeah I’m just...nervous.” A pause hangs in the air as Hitoka considers continuing. Akane’s expression doesn’t change. “I’m just not good talking to people.”

At that the other girl smiles, wide and a little crooked. “Your name’s Hitoka, right?” Hitoka nods. “Well don’t worry about that. You can talk to me, I’m a learned conversationalist after having to cover up for my brother after all these years.”

“You mean Taketora?”

“Yep. You can try talking to him too, but you might have to dig at him a little bit. Not in a bad way, ya know? But you’ll really have to be persistent because he’s hopeless.” On stage the very first scene of the play has started. It’s a monologue, and doesn’t require that much blocking, but they’re going over it anyway. Ryuu (one of the people Hitoka has seen Taketora talking _very_ comfortably with) stands on the left side from the audience’s perspective, beginning to recite his lines.

“Hopeless? But he looks like he talks to everyone pretty freely.” Hitoka asks without much trepidation. The interaction with Akane comes more fluidly than she projected; unsurprising as she almost always exaggerates these things in her mind.

“That’s because he’s friends with them already,” Akane says in a lowered voice. Ryuu is loud but she doesn’t want to distract anyone. “Also, you’re a girl.”

“Oh.” Hitoka doesn’t know what that implies.

Akane puts her hands up defensively. “Don’t take it wrong it’s not like, sexism or something, otherwise the two of us would have a _big_ problem,” Her voice betrays no doubt that she would fight her brother if need be. “He’s just a doofus around girls, because despite what his mohawk says, he’s shy.”

That gets a laugh out of Hitoka, and she realizes she’s feeling definitely relaxing right now.  Her feet are touching the ground and her butterflies have made themselves scarce. While giggling she looks up to the stage and catches sight of Taketora himself, sitting off to stage left, the left side of the stage from the actor’s perspective. He’d been focused on whatever conversation he was having, but through some stroke of luck or sibling telepathy he looks over at the moment Hitoka and Akane do. The two girls exchange looks with each other and Hitoka keeps giggling, and Taketora must instinctively know she’s laughing at him. He makes a pleading face and head motion at Akane (who responds with her own defiant one.)

Without a single word exchanged, it seems like Taketora has lost an argument. He frowns purposefully at his sister and then continues his conversation with Nishinoya.

“Once you get past the shy part though he’s very loud.” Akane assures Hitoka. “I’m pretty sure he’s an extrovert. I think half of the people here are extroverts. Probably more than half. Probably almost all of them. This is my first time performing myself, but I’ve met most everyone last year when Tora started off. He’s friends with a few of them outside of the play, so I’m pretty familiar with them ya know?”

“You said this is your first time,” Hitoka starts off confidently. But her words lose traction at the end, realizing as she finishes that she might be sounding rude. “How...how old are you?”

But whatever rudeness is there flies over Akane’s head entirely. “I’m 13.”

“What?” Takeda looks back at the two of them briefly, Hitoka’s voice slightly too loud. She’s pretty sure _that_ was rude. “How are you in the play then? I thought you could only join in your sophomore year! How are you at the school?” They all know the auditions come at the end of spring, leaving students the whole summer to practice their lines. Freshman don’t have a chance at getting into the fall play because they simply aren’t there for auditions.

 _Besides, isn’t 13 younger than a freshman? Did she skip a grade? No that doesn’t make sense because even then she can’t audition while she’s still in elementary school._ Hitoka thinks, running any and all explanations through her mind as fast as she can.

“I’m in 8th grade in the HFAC program, I auditioned in 7th grade.” Akane offers. Ah, the Academic Center. Besides the 4,000 high schoolers, Furuharu High also has 500 some 7th and 8th graders. A semi-recent program that Hitoka often forgets about. Though it’s still a little embarrassing that she forgot completely.

Hitoka apologizes profusely for her thoughtlessness but Akane laughs it away (quietly) and assures her it’s fine. She’s used to it and it doesn’t matter to her that much.

“That’s really impressive though! That you got in as an 8th grader. I mean, not to demean you because of your age or something, it doesn’t really matter how old you are you can be a good actor at any age, but it’s just - I don’t know it’s cool. Uh, but you must be a good actor.” Hitoka’s stutters.

“7th grader,” Akane corrects, sticking out her tongue teasingly. “But, thanks. I don’t know if I’m really any better than anyone else.” She runs her hands through one of her incredibly poofy pigtails. “You’ll have to be the judge of that, I can’t really say.”

Hitoka offers a few more words of encouragement, offering conversation with increasing ease. And she isn’t told to stop talking or disheartened by Akane, the two of them slowly falling to silence as they listen in on practice on stage.

 

\------

 

Backstage is not prime seating for plays.  You can hardly see anyone’s face, and all the movement gets squashed, and you’re almost always either waiting to get on stage next, or helping out with something else on set.

For now, Makki doesn’t mind it. Being one of the stage managers at least means when the final performances come, he can buy a ticket and sit in the audience. Plus, he just genuinely enjoys helping out backstage; he gets to be a part of the theatre experience without having to go on stage and embarrass himself. Because he’s a terrible actor.

Noya on the other hand is delightful. Actually, all of them are delightful and Makki is honestly excited to see how this comedy turns out in the end.

After Tetsurou leaves the stage, Takeda guides both Makki and Mattsun through the steps of placing the set for this scene. The two of them missed the first day in the auditorium, much to Tooru’s dismay (not that it really matters), but they’ve quickly fallen back into their roles helping around where they’re needed.

The first part of practice, once everyone got past announcements and warm-ups, mostly had the two boys sitting on the sidelines watching.

Without wanting to get out the big props just yet, both Ryuu and Tetsurou rely heavily on the single fake-prop they need for the scene: a writer’s desk. It’s the most consistent prop throughout the play, as it’ll never leave its little corner on stage.

 _The Good Doctor_ relies heavily on narration by the character: The Writer. The opening monologue has him reflecting on his abilities as an playwright, and in the process of almost giving up, is sparked with several new skit ideas. Each scene of the play is one of those skits, and more often than not, The Writer winds up interacting with the characters he creates, mostly as an extra in the background, watching as his ideas unfold in front of him.

Ryuu plays the role of The Writer with a specific type of honesty. As if The Writer is a man who has an earnest desire and love for what he does, but simply has the worst ideas.

Tetsurou however, plays the role like he’s full of shit.

Both are good, Makki thinks. Just different.

But they’re moving on now, past the opening monologue and onto the first scene which requires more coordination. None of the movement will be all that complex, but there’s still the need to shift around set pieces. Takeda climbs onto stage after Ryuu takes his place again, stage right by the invisible desk, and stands at the head of a wooden step.

Two tiered and wide enough to put a chair on top, it’s painted gaudily and looks like it was probably used to take yearbook photos or something. Though now the theatre program has taken its claim on it as they do many discarded items, repurposing it for plays and musicals for years in the making.

Takeda picks up one end and directs Mattsun to take the other. The two of them place it center downstage, and Makki follows after the two of them, a roll of masking tape and a sharpie in hand. He places some tape at the corners of the steps, scribblings something onto the tape. They put four chairs on top of it, and four chairs in front.

Not exactly what a movie theatre looks like, but close enough. The audience will get it.

“While The Writer’s talking, stage crew will move the set on.” Takeda says, hopping back down the stairs at the front of the stage. He takes his usual place in front of the orchestra pit. “And when he reaches that first set of parentheses - the stage directions - if you follow along you can all see them right?”

Those backstage look at their scripts, kept on hand, mostly to write down director notes. They all nod as they look at what Takeda mentions.

“Cherdyakov and Wife, you will enter there, from stage left. General and Madame Brassilhov, you’ll be entering from stage right a few lines later.” After Takeda says it, Hajime and Kiyoko cross the stage. “And actually, Ryuu? Tetsurou? You’ll be crossing over to the other side about there as you say your very first line, and _after_ stage crew brings on the set. And then when I motion to you, you’ll sit down in the chair at the end.”

During these initial rehearsals there’s a lot of director interruption as the movements on stage slowly line up with the script. As Takeda organizes himself, Makki waggles his fingers in means of a wave at Hajime across the stage. Hajime waves back. Kiyoko ducks her head into their line of sight and joins in the waving, knowing full well it wasn’t meant for her. She’s probably the most subtle smart-ass Makki has ever met. He respects smart asses.

But on Takeda’s orders everyone on stage reigns in their distraction and listens to Ryuu’s confident voice as he steps back into character.

As Makki thought before, Ryuu and Tetsurou play their character differently. But what they share in common, what an actor needs in order to effectively convey who The Writer is, is charisma.

Which Ryuu has plenty of. He doesn’t swagger across the stage as Tetsurou would, instead moving his hands and body along with his narration, enthralled by his own imagination as he sets the scene of the play. A hypothetical rush of people into a grand theater, awaiting the start of a play. His eyes brighten as he imagines the Grand Salon, and then his face turns more stern, recounting to the viewers how the patrons of the theater only focus on the actors of the play they’re about to watch, the stars and glimmery aspects of the production, Ryuu saddening a little at how people ignore the story of what they’re about to watch; no doubt a reflection on how frustrated The Writer is with the reviews on his own work. But his eyes regain their sparkle as he brings in his star character of the scene, Ivan Ilyitch Cherdyakov. An man participating in theater The Writer wishes people did.  And beyond the feelings The Writer has for Cherdyakov, Ryuu, as an actor, is great friends with Nishinoya who plays his counterpart. None of their lines are actual conversation between each other from what Makki remembers, but their chemistry is energetic and _enthralling_.

Without even looking at each other, as Ryuu introduces Cherdyakov, Nishinoya walks on stage, arm in arm with Yui as his wife, the mood lined with anticipatory static falls upon the audience, Ryuu’s voice as a welcome guide.

According to Ryuu, Cherdyakov is employed by the Ministry of Public Parks. And who better to walk in after Cherdyakov than the Minister of Public Parks himself, General Mikhail Brassilhov, played by Hajime. Kiyoko, just as Yui was to Noya, has an arm wrapped around Hajime’s, the two walking on stage more coolly than the previous couple.

Finishing his introductions, Ryuu takes a seat next to Hajime as an extra in the scene. It’s assumed, with everyone seated and quiet for a second, the imaginary play the characters have sat down to watch has begun. And with that, he hands off the dialogue to Noya.

Then proceeds the most stilted series of introductions ever made. Noya, excitedly extending his greetings to Hajime, who receives it, and then to Kiyoko, who doesn’t.

There’s still a simmering energy beneath the dialogue, but it’s awkward and settles the atmosphere for the rest of the scene. Yui fumbles over her own introductions, all too loud for the setting of a theater and  Ryuu shushes the lot of them.

  


Hajime: _(to RYUU)_ Sorry. Terribly sorry.

_(HAJIME tries to control his anger as they all go back to watching the play.)_

Noya: I hope you enjoy the play, sir.

Hajime: I will if I can watch it.

Ryuu: Feeling quite pleased with himself for having made the most of this golden opportunity, Ivan Ilyitch Cherdyakov sat back to enjoy _The Bearded Countess_. He was no longer a stranger to the Minister of Public Parks. They had become, if one wanted to be generous about the matter, familiar with each other...And then, quite suddenly, without any warning, like a bolt from a gray thundering sky, Ivan Ilyitch Cherdyakov reared his head back, and —

Noya: AAAAAAAAAH-CHOOOOOOO!!! _(NOYA unleashes the most outrageous and putrid sneeze he can possibly muster, aiming it directly at the back of HAJIME’S head. It wasn’t supposed to be real but MAKKI thinks he sees spittle fly out of his mouth)_ Ohhh, my goodness, I’m _sorry_ , your Excellency! I’m so terribly sorry!

_(HAJIME wipes at the back of his head with a fake handkerchief, but with a look of genuine disgust on his face)_

Hajime: Never mind. It’s all right. _(HAJIME is not all right.)_

Noya: _All right?_ ...It certain is _not_ all right! It’s unpardonable. It was monstrous of me —

Hajime: You make too much of the matter. Let it rest.

Noya: _(Miming his own handkerchief)_ How can I let it rest? It was inexcusable. Permit me to wipe your neck, General. It’s the least I can do.

_(He goes to wipe at HAJIME but he pushes NOYA’S hand away)_

Hajime: Leave it be! It’s all right, I say.

Noya: But I splattered you, sir. Your complete head is splattered. It was an accident, I assure you — but it’s _disgusting!_

Ryuu: Shhh!

Hajime: I’m sorry, My apologies.

Noya: The thing is, your Excellency, it came completely without warning. It was out of my nose before I could stifle it.

Kiyoko: Shhh!

Noya: Shhh, yes, certainly. I’m sorry… _(NOYA sits back, nervously. He blows his nose in his fake handkerchief. Then NOYA leans forward)_ It’s not a cold, if that’s what you were worrying about, sir. Probably a particle of dust in the nostril —

Hajime: Shhh!

_(NOYA sits back, unhappy with himself)_

Ryuu: But try as he might, Cherdyakov could not put the incident out of his mind. The sneeze, no more than an innocent anatomical accident, grew out of all proportion in his mind, until it resembled the angry roar of a cannon aimed squarely at the enemy camp. He played the incident back in his mind, slowing the procedure down so he could view it again in horror the infamous deed.

 

Takeda stops them here with an important set of notes to relay. “Ok this part — this part will be a little difficult. You guys have to repeat the sneeze in slow motion.”

Before he moves on though, he feels the need to address something in particular.

“Noya...did you... actually sneeze on his head?”

So Makki hadn’t imagined the spittle.

Noya nods unabashedly but sighs. “I didn’t…I didn’t sneeze but I spit on him yes. A lot.”

Ryuu’s leaning forward, shaking his head and biting his lip, laughing in soft puffs trying to control himself.

“I could _feel_ it.” Hajime’s voice is gruff but full of mirth. “I think it’s...still there.”

Noya stands up and wipes at the back of Hajime’s head. “Oh man, dude I’m so sorry. Oh I’m sorry that’s really gross.” His shirt is now damp.

“ _Ok thanks that’s enough_.” Hajime struggles, squeezing his eyes shut. Makki’s sure that some of the spit must have just gotten pressed further into his hair. Noya is wonderful but also...sometimes...

“So before we repeat this scene in _real life,_ ” Takeda laughs out. “When we do the slow motion thing. Please. _Please_ , try not to spit on Hajime. Please.”

“I’m sorry man,” Noya gestures to his mouth. “I just. I just have a lot of spit.” Takeda runs his tongue over his teeth in contemplation while shaking his head. “Ok — so. When you do things in slow-motion you’re going to have to coordinate everything together, so that you’re moving at the same time.” Gently breezing past Noya’s spit comment. He then offers a little more detail about managing the slow-motion effect and some other stage instruction.

Takeda has Ryuu repeat his last few lines. Giving everyone just enough reintroduction to the scene at hand.

On cue, Noya enters slow-mo mode, and as he does with all things, gives the melodrama his all. His entire body seems to receive the shock of his own sneeze as his face contorts in ways Makki didn’t know it could. Yui, Ryuu, and Kiyoko simply react in delayed horror as they witness the death of Hajime Iwaizumi.

There’s a small “chu” sound that can only be heard on stage, and Hajime throws his head forward, dropping open his mouth and rolling his eyes back as if killed instantly.

Quickly, they snap out of slow motion and back into the present, standing and clapping for the play their characters were supposed to be watching. They step away from their seats, and Takeda guides the actors so that all five actors are standing stage left, but Noya and Yui are closer to the center. They continue the rest of the scene.

Hajime: Charming...Charming.

Kiyoko: Yes, charming.

Hajime: Charming...Simply charming. Wasn’t it charming, my dear?

Ryuu: I was completely charmed by it.

Noya: _(tapping HAJIME on the shoulder)_ Excuse me, Excellency —

Hajime: Who’s tapping? Somebody’s tapping me. Who’s that tapping?

Noya: I’m tapping, sir. I’m the tapper...Cherdyakov.

Kiyoko: _(quickly pulls HAJIME back)_ Stand back, dear, it’s the sneezer.

Noya: No, no, it’s all right. I’m all sneezed out...I was just concerned about your going out into the night air with a damp head.

Hajime: Oh, that. It was a trifle. A mere faux pas. Forget it, young man. Amusing play, don’t you think? Did you find it amusing?

Noya: Amusing? Oh, my goodness, yes. Ha, ha. So true. Ha, ha. I haven’t laughed as much in hears. Ha, ha, ha…

Hajime: Which part interested you the most?

Noya: The sneeze. When I sneezed on you. It was unforgivable, sir.

Hajime: Forget it, young man. _(to KIYOKO)_ Come, my dear. It looks like rain. I don’t want to get my head wet again.

Kiyoko: You shouldn’t let people sneeze on you, dear. You’re not to be sneezed at.

_(HAJIME and KIYOKO exit stage left, leaving NOYA and YUI nervously huddled together)_

Noya: I’m ruined! Ruined! He’ll have me fired from Trees and Bushes. They’ll send me down to Branches and Twigs.

Yui: Come, Ivan.

Noya: What?

Yui: You musn’t let it concern you. It was just a harmless little sneeze. The General’s probably forgotten it already.

Noya: Do you really think so?

Yui: No! I’m scared, Ivan.

Ryuu: And so they walked home in despair.

_(RYUU stands by the stairs flanking the orchestra pit on stage left. With several helpful instructions from TAKEDA, MAKKI and MATTSUN move around some set pieces. The next part of the scene taking place between Cherdyakov’s house set, and The General’s office set. There’s a line of tape down the center of the stage courtesy of MAKKI and the scene continues)_

Noya: Perhaps I should send him a nice gift. Maybe some Turkish towels.

_(NOYA and YUI cross diagonally from stage left to right)_

Ryuu: _(as they cross)_ Cherdyakov’s once-promising career had literally been blown away.

_(NOYA sits down in the chairs, YUI standing behind him, arms on his shoulders. RYUU stands at his post by the writer’s desk)_

Noya: Why did this happen to me? Why did I go to the theater at all? Why didn’t I sit in the balcony with people of our own class? They love sneezing on each other.

Yui: Come to bed, Ivan.

Noya: Perhaps if I were to call on the General and explain matters again, but in such a charming, honest, and self-effacing manner, he would have no choice but to forgive me…

Yui: Maybe it’s best not to remind him, Ivan.

Noya: No, no. If I ever expect to become a gentleman, I must behave like one.

Ryuu: And so the morning came. It so happened this was the day the General listened to petitions, and since there were fifty or sixty petitions ahead of Cherdyakov, he waited from morning till late, late afternoon…

_(NOYA moves into the office set)_

Hajime: _(sitting at a desk)_ Next!...NEXT!

Noya: I’m not next, your Excellency...I’m last.

Hajime: Very well, then...Last!

Noya: That’s me, sir.

Hajime: Well, what is your petition?

Noya: I have no petition, sir. I’m not a petitioner.

Hajime: Then you waste my time.

Noya: Do you not recognize me, sir? We met last night under rather “explosive” circumstances...I am the splatterer.

Hajime: The what?

Noya: The sneezer. The one who sneezed. The sneezing splatterer.

Hajime: Indeed? And what is it you want now? A _Gesundheit_?

Noya: No, Excellency...Your forgiveness. I just wanted to point out there was no political or antisocial motivation behind my sneeze. It was a nonpartisan, nonviolent act of God. I curse the day the protuberance formed itself on my face. It’s a hateful nose, sir, and I am not responsible for its indiscretions… _(grabbing his own nose)_ Punish that which committed the crime, but absolve the innocent body behind it. Exile my nose, but forgive me your kindship. Forgive me.

Hajime: My dear young man, I’m not angry with your nose. I’m too busy to have time for your nasal problems. I suggest you go home and take a hot bath — or a cold one — take _something_ , but don’t bother me with this silly business again…Gibber. Gibber, gibber, gibber, gibber…

_(NOYA stands alone in the office sobbing)_

Noya: Thank you, sir. God bless you and your wife and your household. May your days be sweet and may your nights be better than your days.

Ryuu: The feeling of relief that came over Cherdyakov was enormous…

Noya: May the birds sing in the morning at your window and may the coffee in your cup be strong and hot…

Ryuu: The weight of the burden that was lifted was inestimable…

Noya: _(on his knees, kissing the desk chair)_ I worship the chair you sit on and the uniform you wear that sits on the chair that I worship…

Ryuu: He walked home, singing and whistling like a lark. Life was surely a marvel, a joy, a heavenly paradise…

_(NOYA gets up and starts almost skipping toward the house set)_

Noya: Oh, God, I am happy!

Ryuu: And yet—

Noya: And yet—

Ryuu: When he arrived home, he began to think…

Noya: Have I been the butt of a cruel and thoughtless joke?

Ryuu: Had the Minister toyed with him?

Noya: If he had no intention of punishing me, why did he torment me so unmercifully?

Ryuu: If the sneeze meant so little to the Minister, why did he deliberately cause Cherdyakov to writhe in his bed?

Noya: ...to twist in agony the entire night?

Ryuu: Cherdyakov was furious!

Noya: I AM FURIOUS!

Ryuu: He foamed and fumed and paced the night through, and in the morning he called out to his wife, “SONYA!”

Noya: SONYA! _(YUI rushes in)_ I have been humiliated.

Yui: _You_ , Ivan? Who would humiliate _you_? You’re such a kind and generous person.

Noya: Who? I’ll tell you who! General Brassilhov, the Minister of Public Parks.

Yui: What did he do?

Noya: The swine! I was humiliated in such subtle fashion, It was almost indiscernible. The man’s cunning is equal only to his cruelty. He practically forced me to come to his office to grovel and beg on my knees. I was reduced to a gibbering idiot.

Yui: You were that reduced?

Noya: I must go back and tell him what I think of him. The lower classes must speak up… _(he stands center, between the sets)_ The world must be made safe so that men of all nations and creeds, regardless of color or religion, will be free to sneeze on their superiors! It is _he_ who will be humiliated by _I!_

Ryuu: And so, the next morning, Cherdyakov came to humiliate _he_.

Hajime: Last! _(NOYA goes to HAJIME’S desk. He stands there glaring down at HAJIME with a faint trace of a smile on his lips)_ Well?

Noya: Well? Well, you say?...Do you not recognize me, your Excellency? Look at my face...Yes. You’re quite correct. It is I once again.

Hajime: It is you once again who?

Noya: Cherdyakov, Excellency. I have returned, having taken neither a hot bath nor a cold one.

Hajime: Who let this filthy man in? What is it?

Noya: What is it?...What is it you ask? You sit there behind your desk and ask, What is it? You sit there in your lofty position as General and Minister of Public Parks, a member in high standing among the upper class, and ask me, a lowly civil servant, What is it? You sit there with full knowledge that there is no equality in this life, that there are those of us who serve and those that are served, those of us that obey and those that are obeyed, those of us who bow and those that are bowed to, that in this life certain events take place that cause some of us to be humiliated and those that are the cause of that humiliation...and still you ask, “WHAT IS IT?”!

Hajime: _(Angrily)_ _What is it?_ Don’t stand there gibbering like an idiot! What is it you want?

Noay: _I’ll tell you what I want!_...I wanted to apologize again for sneezing on you...I wasn’t sure I made it clear. It was an accident, an accident, I assure you…

Hajime: _(Stands and screams)_ _Out! Out, you idiot!_ Fool! Imbecile! Get out of my sight! I never want to see you again. If you ever cross my line of vision I’ll have you exiled forever...WHAT’S YOUR NAME?

Noya: Ch-Cherdyakov!

_(It comes out as a sneeze — in HAJIME’S face)_

Hajime: You germ spreader! You maggot! You insect! You are lower than an insect. You are the second cousin to a cockroach! _(HAJIME lumbers over NOYA now, voice lowering in pitch but increasing in volume. Levels of pure rage than no one has ever seen from him off-stage, radiate off of his skin)_ The son-in-law of a bed bug! You are the nephew of a _ringworm!_ You are nothing, nothing, do you hear me?... _NOTHING_!

_(NOYA slouches and walks to the house set)_

Ryuu: At that moment, something broke loose inside of Cherdyakov...Something so deep and vital, so organic, that the damage that was done seemed irreparable..Something drained from him that can only be described as the very life force itself… _(NOYA sits on the chairs)_ The matter was over, for once, for all, forever. What happened next was quite simple… _(NOYA lies awkwardly across both plastic chairs)_ Ivan Ilyitch Cherdyakov arrived at home...removed his coat...lay down on the sofa — and died!

 

There’s a half second of silence as Ryuu’s last words sink in, and the scene ends. Takeda smiles and claps lightly, Hitoka and Akane behind him clapping a little harder and giggling.

“Alright! That was good! Very good.” Takeda puts his hands on his hips in satisfaction, and people exit the stage, swapping out set pieces and exchanging words of praise for a first successful run.

Hopefully Taketora will perform his role without the use of spit.

 

\------

 

While part of the cast is busy sneezing on each other, literally everyone else is in the foyer.

What they’re supposed to be doing is running over lines again.

But considering that most of them spent the better half of their summers, memorizing their scripts through any means possible — whether it meant writing their lines in a notebook (forever and ever amen) like Shouyou, or muttering to themselves even in public as Tobio had done — none of them are particularly inclined to _just keep practicing_.

Except Tobio. Which amazes Shouyou, because while he desperately wants to put on a good performance, he is bored. He is so incredibly bored. And he cannot comprehend how Tobio is not bored. Because throwing a ball back and forth, and saying words meaninglessly without any emotion, is the absolute literal most boring thing that Shouyou can think of.

He tried to bring that up with Tobio.

“You’re boring” Shouyou said encouragingly. And then Tobio looked at him offended, like he was trying to swallow his own teeth.

Tobio’s attempts to get others to practice were ineffective. First of all, he didn’t even go up to Tooru to ask. Instead he went straight to Keiji, who, after looking at the quickly growing circle of cast members lazing on the floor, turned to his underclassmen and gently said:

“Nah...Sorry.”

Frustrated and vaguely pouty, Tobio then turned to whoever was sitting next to Keiji. Which was Suga. Suga smiled. His hands folded, rubbing his thumbs together. Suga kept smiling. Tobio looked over at Daichi. Suga gently shook his head. Tobio retreated.

Shouyou interrupted him before he could ask Kanoka.

“This isn’t line practice but—can you help me with something?” He said, crouched next to Tobio on the floor, tugging on the back of his shirt. Tobio looked at him, a little deflated at everyone’s lack of complicity, but curious.

So after a quick explanation, the two headed upstairs, away from everyone else.

“It’s not necessarily about their backstory. I mean, that’s part of it, but we’re not trying to invent another story about this person.” Both of them are sitting on the second level, backs pressed against the wall separating them from the balcony seats. “You’re trying to figure out, who this character is. To you. Who you believe them to be and what kind of person they are so you can get into their head and act _as_ them, instead of pretending to be them.” Tobio continues, brow creased as he tries his hardest to make Shouyou understand.

“But we literally are pretending to be them.” Shouyou says, not understanding.

“Ok no that’s not what I’m saying.” Tobio turns himself to face Shouyou better. The smaller boy plays with the peeling paint on the wall. “When you’re on stage, you’re trying to actually _be_ that person. You’re supposed to be feeling what they’re feeling.”

That kind of makes sense to Shouyou. Actually it makes perfect sense to him. But it doesn’t quite explain what Takeda had meant when he told them to “explore their characters” and “figure out who they are”. Realizing at this point he may wind up peeling off an entire walls worth of paint, Shouyou tugs his hand away and goes to look Tobio in the eyes. Tobio almost immediately looks away.

“I still don’t really understand.”

“Yeah I kind of got that, dumbass.” Scratching at a spot on his cheek, Tobio continues to talk, but doesn’t look up to meet Shouyou’s eyes. He can hear him make an offended sound though.

“Ok well if _you_ have it all figured out, _you_ tell me ‘who The Dentist is’.” Shouyou replacing the paint peeling with fidgeting with his script

“To me, The Dentist is a hardworking medical student trying to get his degree—”

“Yeah well, it says that much in the script.”

“Would you let me finish?” Tobio’s voice betrays his irritation. He finally looks up to Shouyou for a moment to squint at him and frown. “He’s trying to get his degree, and is just absolutely determined it’s going to happen. He’s going to take whatever customer walks into his office, and will only take no as the absolute last answer. That’s the kind of person he is.”

“Huh, that’s interesting.” Shouyou says lightly, contrasting Tobio. “I thought he was more of the kind of person that was hoping things would work out right. He really really wants to pass his exams and prove himself as a doctor, but he’s kind of desperate and willing to do anything to make it happen. But not through determination. Because he’s desperate.”

Now Tobio’s head is in his hands, and when he lifts it somehow he looks even grumpier than before.

“Then you literally already answered the question ‘who is The Dentist’ you idiot. You already figured it out.”

“What? That was it?” Shouyou widens his eyes in surprise. “Wait — then I’m not an idiot, I figured it out before you did!”

“No you did not! I still figured it out first — you were just so stupid, that you didn’t even realize you were being stupid, and then made me explain everything uselessly for 15 minutes.”

Shouyou starts to speak but now Tobio is aggressively ruffling his hair, more aggressively than it’s ever been ruffled. When he’s done it leaves Shouyou with a fleeting dizziness, and a quiet between the two boys. The pause afterwards is a little uncomfortable, at least for Shouyou as he has nothing to fill it with. He almost always has something to fill it with. But Tobio is still a little bit of a mystery to him. No he’s a lot a bit of a mystery, and Shouyou keeps trying to look at him to figure him out. Read his eyes or something. But Tobio seems particularly inept at eye contact when he’s not thinking about it.

Still he’s going to keep looking at him until he like, figures him out or something. Or until he figures out why he feels like he knows something about Tobio. Or knows him. Beyond their last like 3 days of interaction. Like when he’d looked at Hitoka yesterday—

“Do we have Spanish together?” Shouyou asks, finally breaking that awkward silence.

“Uh.” Tobio does meet his eyes then looking very much lost. “I have no idea?”

Shouyou recognizes that expression from his Spanish class. “Yes! Yes we do.” It’s the expression of a boy who has no idea what’s going on.

“If you already knew why did you ask me?” And Tobio’s face switches back to his usual grumpy one.

Before either of them realizes it, they’ve switched conversation topics about five separate times. Shouyou’s unfiltered curiosity or Tobio’s tactless observations, somehow leading to conducive conversation in between all the bickering. They spend just about 20 minutes like that, and by the time they’re called downstairs, Tobio has unknowingly endeared himself to Shouyou.

“Where are the children?” Noya asks loudly, piercing through the hum of conversation.

“Our scene is over, Takeda needs the next group,” Hana says as the two sophomores rush down the stairs. She slips past Noya the rest of the _The Sneeze_ cast quickly following behind.

“That means the children. And Keiji.” Noya finishes.

Tooru sits up in a flash, hair flouncing forward. “Did you include me with the children?”

Noya puts a hand over his chest and nods his head as Hajime offers Tooru a hand.

“For good reason.” Hajime says gruffly, pulling Tooru up off the ground

“Et tu Iwa-chan?!” Hajime snorts.

While Tooru and Hajime continue to have a moment, Tobio takes the door from Noya. “I am not a child” He informs him, an impossibly serious expression on Tobio’s face. But it just makes Noya break into a loud burst of laughter, and he claps Tobio on the back.

Tobio, a little unsure of how to take that reaction, leaves after Keiji, who must have slipped by without anyone noticing somehow, as Shouyou can’t find him in the group of people left on the floor. He takes the door from Tobio, and waits for Tooru who is distinctly taking forever, still apparently rapped up with Hajime.

Shouyou glimpses the end of their conversation, Tooru gently slipping his arm away from his friend’s, their fingers dragging lightly against each other.  And then Tooru turns quickly, skipping past Shouyou, Hajime’s gruffness melting into an unmistakable fondness behind Tooru’s back.

But it lasts for maybe 5 whole seconds before he realizes Shouyou’s watching. Hajime has just enough time to blush before Shouyou quietly lets the door close.

He clears his throat at no one in particular.

Putting that, apparently private, interaction behind him, Shouyou rushes over to the front of the auditorium. He crawls into a seat next to Tobio. A couple rows in front of them is Taketora, taking his post as prideful-older-brother, awaiting his little sister’s performance.

Akane is currently playing The Mistress. A seemingly cold and stingy woman, pretending to fudge the numbers of her governess’s paycheck in order to teach her a lesson. In this cast, Julia the governess is played by Hitoka.

It’s almost painful to watch Hitoka, seeing how the character parallels her actual personality. Head hanging and delivering her lines to the ground. Her hair prickling every time she gets called out for being too timid. It all comes off almost _normal_ , and leaves a sour taste in Shouyou’s mouth.

He imagines if he ever saw anyone talk to Hitoka like this in real life, he’d fight them immediately.

When they switch casts Akane appears again, taking Hitoka’s role as Julia, and Yui as the Mistress. Initially it’s hard for Shouyou to disconnect Akane from her performance as a cold and hard-assed character, but Shouyou is quickly overtaken by how soft and vulnerable she acts, remembering that she’s merely 13. She went from believably adult to a child in an instant, and it leaves Shouyou impressed.

Obviously also impressed, Tobio relaxes into the wooden backing of his seat, “She’s...really good.” He says in that too-loud whisper.

Taketora clears his throat and smirks, full of the loud smugness of an older brother.

As the boys take the girls’ place onstage, Takeda apologetically explains they might not be able to finish both casts. While the stage managers rearrange things, Shouyou stands next to Tobio, bouncing on the toes of his gym shoes. Tobio sits in one of the many chairs backstage and nods at the prospect of not performing but hunches his shoulders slightly in what Shouyou thinks is disappointment. Shouyou pats him lightly on the back and Tobio’s tenses at first, as if not used to people touching him before letting his shoulders drop, blinking profusely.

Next to them, Tooru pointedly pulls up a chair and sits as far away as he possibly can, and still be able to see what’s happening on stage. He crosses his long legs and sighs in a way that is definitely directed at Tobio despite refusing to make eye contact with the younger boy.

It’s strangling to stand between them, Shouyou having made recent friends out of the both of them, but this is not his problem. On some level he wishes it was so he could rectify whatever this is. Instead, he settles on giving Tobio one last pat on the shoulder, wading through the thick atmosphere to get to Akaashi, ears turning to Takeda’s directions.

Shouyou finds he has to keep his yellow script booklet with him at all times while Takda helps them block out the scene, and though the run through isn’t fluid, Shouyou’s able to gratify the part of him that needed to connect emotions to words, and words to actions. And on top of it all, Keiji is hilarious.

After Ryuu introduces this scene, Keiji nearly shambles onto the stage, moaning like a wounded animal and a little bit like an old man. There’s a wheeze at the end of his cries, and Shouyou rushes over to him as directed, Keiji leaning on the smaller boy like a human crutch, though actually carrying most of the weight himself.

Shouyou tries to walk Keiji over to the “dentist chair”, asking question after question, pushy, and overwhelming, and desperate as he imagined. Suspicious and self-pitying, Keiji answers Shouyou’s questions. Whining, and almost refusing service when finding Shouyou, or rather Kuryatin, is not a certified dentist but a student in training to be.

But after pleading Keiji, the Sexton, stays, though he minds every step Shouyou takes.

The scene is mostly a back and forth of Keiji, despite being in a desperate amount of pain because of his rotten tooth, trying to escape Shouyou who sorta-kinda knows what he’s doing.

And it requires a lot of physical contact between the two. Specifically, it requires Shouyou to:

  1. Grab onto Keiji’s face and attempt to pull open his jaw, as Keiji refuses to budge like a child being forced to each broccoli.
  2. Look into Keiji’s mouth to look at his “rotten tooth” and then turn away to almost vomit.
  3. Blow into Keiji’s mouth (for doctor reasons! He swears.)
  4. Hold Keiji’s mouth open and shove his hand inside and then, because Keiji grabbed his wrist, rip himself away and then shove his hand inside again.
  5. Literally chase Keiji around the stage.



Tooru is whimper-laughing on the sidelines.

When the fantastic display ends, Keiji and Shouyou lie on the ground, slightly breathless, and are suddenly showered with clapping. Shouyou sits up, cheeks pinks from running around and blinks up at most everyone around him smiling broadly. Takeda seems wildly pleased, Tooru’s face is lit with sincere enjoyment, and Yachi, who stayed even after her own performance, giggles happily. Even Akaashi offers his own subtle but firm smile, hair tousled in the slightest.

And he’s not smiling, but Tobio is clapping, looking at Shouyou in the eye with a warmth that suggests that maybe he wanted to.

Takeda checks his watch as the clapping dies down, his eyes still crinkled with happiness and approval.

It’s almost six o’clock, not nearly enough time to run through the scene again.  “Call everyone back in for notes!” He says to the pink-haired stage manager.

Keiji and Shouyou help each other stand, and Shouyou brushes the dust off the back of his jeans as the wooden back door clicks open and the rest of the cast bubbles into the room. And while the warmth of a good performance still sits light in Shouyou’s chest, he still feels the chill between Tobio and Tooru starting to rise again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is an excuse for me to make my faves do ridiculous things
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> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/CO32minus)

**Author's Note:**

> Number of chapters may change based on, how long things wind up being. Also you can read the [play](http://pvp.org/Play%20Reading/Good%20Doctor-%20Neil%20Simon.pdf) they're in, minus exactly one scene, and plus another I decided to take out because that scene is boring.


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